


Ask me again

by dreamerinheaven



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: 3x08, Confessions, Fix-It, Getting Back Together, M/M, Past Abuse, i don't know how to tag, not between coliver though, they finally talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-12
Updated: 2016-11-12
Packaged: 2018-08-30 14:06:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8536093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamerinheaven/pseuds/dreamerinheaven
Summary: „Connor, wait! Please wait!“[or: the AU where Oliver stops Connor from leaving]





	

**Author's Note:**

> I really hated that Connor slept with Thomas of all people so I wrote this to fix it.  
> Sorry if my english sucks, it's not my first language and sorry that this is so short :'D

„Connor, wait! Please wait!“

The law student closed his eyes, not stopping while hastily getting dressed.

A warm hand curled softly around his wrist and Connor hated himself for how a part of him wanted to lean into that touch, to turn around and curl himself into Ollies chest as if it wasn't him who broke his heart in the first place.

“Connor, please look at me.”

“Why?” his voice didn't sound nearly as strong and confident as he wanted it to be, “Anything else you wanna tell me?”

“No, I – Connor, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you, I just-”

He sighted, still not letting go of Connors wrist.

“You just don't believe that I love you.”

Now Connor looked up and a petty part in him relaxed when he saw how guilty Oliver looked, seeing the effect his words had on the younger man clear on his face. 'Good.', he thought, 'Let him feel guilty without drinking himself into oblivion first.'

“I mean it's not like you're the first guy who didn't just want me for Sex – or, well, at least that's what I thought. Guess I'm just too _'damaged'_ to know the difference.”

His heart was racing and his breath quickened. He felt dizzy and blinked rapidly.

The words all but flew out of his mouth and his voice trembled violentely.

“It's not like Annalise is fucking blackmailing us into staying and keeping our mouth shut or-or like people haven't **died** already because they know too much but yes, it's all my fault isn't it because that's so **easy** , just blame Connor, from Annalises shit or our breakup – it' always me and -”

He couldn't speak anymore.

He saw that Oliver was talking but he couldn't hear him. It was like he was under water – unable to breath or to hear.

“--ease try to breath with me okay?”

He tried, still gasping for air and not even noticing that he clung to Olivers hand.

A few minutes passed until Connor slowly calmed down.

“Come on, let's get you on the bed – or the couch if you'd rather..”

“'Bed 's fine.”, he mumbled and let Ollie lead him towards their (his, Connor it's just his bed now) bed, where they sat down.

“Do you feel better? Do you need something?'

_'Yes, I need **you**.'_

“Maybe a glass of water.”

Oliver nodded. “Of course. I'll be right back.”

 

 

In the kitchen Oliver closed his eyes for a couple of seconds.

Connors words echoed in his head.

_Like people haven't died already because they knew too much._

Was it really that serious? Had Annalise killed someone just because they knew too much? Or let someone be killed?

He filled the glass and thought carefully about what he would do next.

Would Connor ever tell him the truth if he thought it would kill him?

He shook his head. Whatever it was – it would have to wait until tomorrow. He needed to know the truth but he wouldn't risk another panic attack.

Slowly he made his way back to the bedroom, where Connor had buried his head in his hands.

“Here.”, he said softly and gave the glass to Connor, who mumbled a “thanks” and took it.

For a couple of minutes neither of them said anything.

“Ask me again.”, Connor finally whispered, without looking at him. He didn't sound angry or defensive anymore – just tired.

“Con, I don't -”

“No, I mean it. Ask.”

Oliver hesitated.

“Can I – can I ask something else first?”

This made Connor finally look up, clearly confused, but he nodded, probably wondering where this was going.

“Who did this to you?”

Connor blinked.

“...what?”

Oliver hesitated for a second before he took one of Connors hands into his.

“When I called you – what I said to you....Con, you had a panic attack. I never saw you having a reaction like that except for -”

Except for that night that they never really talked about.

Connor looked down.

“Probably because it's true. I mean, it's not like you're the first person who told me that...”

He was quiet for a couple of seconds.

“When I was 14 I had my first boyfriend. He was – well...older.”

Something inside of him froze. He felt like he knew where this was going and he didn't like it.

“I – I liked him.”, he shrugged his shoulders helpless. “And I thought – you know, I thought he liked me too so when he wanted to have Sex, of course I said yes.”

He let out a shaky breath.

“Everything was good until – well, until I started to say no to stuff. He never hit me or anything, just in case you're wondering. It was more...it was more the stuff he said, that was...” He shook his head. “Anyway, at some point I was more a bother for him than anything else, so he dumped me. Said I was too _damaged_ , too much of a fuck up to keep around.”

Oliver could see how hard Connor was trying to come across as nonchalant and he felt sick.

“Con, I - “

Lost for words he wrapped his arms around him.

“God, Connor I'm so sorry...”

The younger man leaned into his touch, but shook his head. “Don't...”, he said softly, “Please don't apologize, not you and not for this. You didn't know. You couldn't have because – because you're right. I don't talk to you. I don't let you in, not when it comes to the really hard stuff.”

He paused.

“Please don't hate me for what I'm about to tell you...”, he whispered, “I never – I never wanted any of this, it just – it just happened.”

Connor was silent for a few heartbeats.

“Do you remember that student that got killed about a year ago? Lila?”

Oliver nodded slowly. “Yeah – Annalise defended this girl – Rebecca?”

“Yeah...Sam Keating, her husband – he was the one who killed her and – and he tried to kill Rebecca when she found out. He – he had her pressed onto the floor, strangling her – when Wes hit him with this statue on the head. Michaela, Laurel and I helped him to cover it up. That – that was when I showed up here. It wasn't drugs, it was never drugs..” His voice was shaking. “And when Annalise found out she told us not to go to the police. We tried...Michaela and I, we tried to turn ourselves in, tell them what happened but... **she** stopped us and I -”

At this point Connor was shaking violently and Oliver wrapped his arms around him.

“Oh Connor...”, he mumbled, “I'm so sorry that that happened to you.”

The man in his arms froze.

“You – what...?”

“ _You_ didn't kill him, Connor. And even Wes – he tried to protect someone he cared about..”

“That's not everything.”

And then Connor talked. The words came out of his mouth as if he had wanted to talk about this for a very long time but was too afraid to do so.

Sinclaire, Caleb – everything made so much sense now. Especially Connors behaviour when it came to him working for Annalise and..

Oh god, Stanford.

“That's why you applied to Stanford.”, he whispered. “You wanted to get away from everything that happened here. You wanted to get away and I took that away from you.”

“Doesn't matter anymore.”, he mumbled. He pushed himself out of Oliver's arms, just far enough to look at him.

“But it _does_ , Connor. Why aren't you...why aren't you furious, why...?”

“Because you mean more to me.”, he interrupted him, “Okay? I already told you – you mean everything to me and I would've rather stayed here with you than being in Stanford away from you.”

Something inside of Oliver melted

'Oh Connor, I love you too.'

He sighted.

“Now you know everything.”

Oliver just nodded. He looked at Connor, half expecting to see him any differently. The man he loved had helped to cover up two murders and yet everything he felt was pity.

Connor had never asked to be in any of those situations.

“Do you – do you want me to...?”

“You can't quit!”, Connor almost shouted, his eyes suddenly full of fear, “She'll know that I told you and she will -”

“Okay. Okay.”

Oliver cradled Connors cheeks with his hands.

“I'm not quitting, I promise.”

He leaned his forehead against Connors and looked at him.

“I – I get why you didn't want to tell me.”, he whispered. “Thank you for doing it anyway. And – I'm sorry. I'm sorry for the things I said to you. I **know** that you love me. Can you forgive me?”

Connor gave him a watery smile.

“There's nothing to forgive, Ollie.”

 _Ollie_.

God he had missed Connor calling him that.

He leaned forwards and kissed him. Their lips moved together, slow and gentle and everything Oliver wanted.

Kissing Connor felt like coming home.

He didn't knew how long they just sat there, kissing, until he slowly moved back, but he stayed close enough to feel the younger man's breath on his skin.

“Come home.”, he whispered against Connors lips, “Please come home, Connor.”

 


End file.
